


My only faith is us

by jarofactonbell



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, a mess, i love this pairing yes i ship, i was really indulgent of this fic please forgive, literally just changjin being whipped for each other, seunglix if you squint hard and ship hard, slow burn to melt your cold frozen hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofactonbell/pseuds/jarofactonbell
Summary: Hyunjin wished upon a shooting star once that he would be by Changbin’s side forever. Begged the moon be his witness.“I can’t lose him, please,” he invoked the heaven, “he’s everything to me.”Now he knows what it is like to hold everything with his own two hands and to have everything embrace him back.





	My only faith is us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disstrack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disstrack/gifts).



> First of all I was going to put this in the oneshot collection when it was at 3k and I was all 'It will wrap itself up around 4k or so' but now we're at 8k? Nearly 8k? And I said to myself 'You idiot just publish it separately'
> 
> Second of all I published faster than strawhatmikans because I started this yesterday and got it done today so when Serena comes back from the war she can square up at me
> 
> Third of all it was so self-indulgent from start to finish because I was feeling sad and actually decided to try positive reinforcement for once in my life so this went to a positive direction rather than a spiralling into angst one
> 
> Fourth of all I love changjin and I ship literally all the ships in SK and today is a Changjin Day
> 
> Fifth of all, everything is all over the place and I don't know how to make things chronological because it just makes sense this way please forgive
> 
> Sixth of all, I tried to show an equal relationship and dynamic because I'm so sick of the old trope of One Person Must Be The Dominant One. It's called two halves, Susan, not one third and two thirds. What are couples, pies? We now have a couple who are balanced in dynamics and impact on each other, because as cold-hearted and cruel as I am, I still like seeing reciprocation and people liking each other mutually. Also lowkey was inspired by Patroclus and Achilles
> 
> Also lastly this literally was me when I was writing it  
> Me: idk, not really into affection and cutesy high school fics  
> Me after I read disstrack's fic and me being an asshole to myself: yo you know what you should do? a cute high school fic about changjin  
> Me to me: but i don't even-  
> My brain: YOU'RE WRITING IT NOW
> 
> So here we are. Forgive me.

“Have you tried twisting it?” Jisung reasons.

There’s a rattle on the doorknob followed by a thud. That could either be Hyunjin ramming his shoulder onto the door or him kicking it down or the oxygen suddenly becoming depleted to a suffocating level, in which case he hopes Changbin can run very fast because he’s not witnessing the death of his best friend when he can prevent it.

Jisung is banging his fist onto the door when Changbin strolls in, without a teacher, walking way too slow for something that is close to an emergency. Hyunjin could’ve died already.

“Excuse me, walk faster,” he hisses, “Hyunjin is dying.”

“Is that Changbin?” Comes Hyunjin’s muffled voice.

Jisung throws up his hand. He’s given up. He can’t do this. Why are they putting him through this? He’s a good and pure child. Just leave him alone.

“This is ridiculous, come on,” he stresses, palms outstretched to pray to the ancestors. “Why are you guys still playing that game?”

“Scram, stupid monkey,” Changbin scoffs, not unkindly, “let me handle this.”

“Oh, I’m not staying, hell no,” Jisung picks up his shoes and slides out of the gym. “I hope Hyunjin dies in there!”

Before Hyunjin can violently swear Jisung to death with his extensive biology knowledge, Changbin raps his knuckles onto the metal door. One tap and three. Two then one.

Hyunjin kicks the inside before the door rattles and swings open, with him still lodged inside, arms crossed. Changbin sighs and offers a palm. Hyunjin refuses to move, pout gowing more prominent by the minute.

“What do you want me to say?” Changbin whispers into the closet space. It’s tiny. How does a giraffe like Hyunjin even fit inside?

Hyunjin doesn’t bless him with any useful knowledge, the boy slouching to a squat, squinting at Changbin harder and harder as he moves closer to the inside of the closet.

Changbin is now up to his chin but Hyunjin refuses to back down, glare magnified on the other boy’s nose. They keep at this for longer than necessary, unwavering.

Hyunjin puffs up his cheeks and scrunches his nose and his eyes nearly disappear into crescents on his face and Changbin slumps, knocking his forehead onto Hyunjin’s collarbone.

“Fine,” he admits. “Fine, god damn it, stop doing that! Fine, I was being an idiot when I didn’t sleep enough and nearly chipped a part of my skull out this morning.”

Hyunjin doesn’t grant him any constructive feedback.

“And I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Silence.

“And I’ll sleep the minute I get home today, homework or not.”

Hyunjin’s collarbones shake and Changbin looks up to see the boy trying to stuff an entire fist into his mouth, eyes now closed and replaced with crescents. He digs one finger in retaliation into Hyunjin’s side and feels vindictive victory when the child curls into himself, stomach muscles contracting and there’s a knee trying to assault him and Hyunjin screeching “You’re so mean!” at different frequencies.

“Will you come and eat now?” Changbin gasps as Hyunjin actually knees him in the hip and Hyunjin folds over to examine it, screeching at him to unhand himself and ‘let me see the damage, old man’.

“I’m okay,” he insists. There doesn’t seem to be a bruise. Hyunjin shoves him and tumbles out of the closet, huffing.

“God the one time I come out of an actual closet it’s in front of an idiot,” he sticks his nose in the air, indignant, “yes, I need food, I’m starving, what’s on the menu?”

“Felix’s food,” Changbin states, obviously amused at Hyunjin’s deepening wrinkles on his forehead.

“I will throw myself out a window then,” the other boy declares and picks up his jacket on the floor, stomping away.

“There’s food on your table if you ever decide to eat!” Changbin calls out, struggling to roll out ceremoniously from the inside. His foot’s caught on something.

“Can you hurry up?”

“I’m okay, I’m coming, I’m just stuck,” Changbin tells him. “Go on without me.”

 

Hyunjin tips his head back for a sneeze but ends up sneezing into a scarf and as a result, snorts the impact of the sneeze up his nose.

He’s just trying to get to school, damn. Why are God and Changbin against him every day?

“Um phufph,” he was meant to say a variation of ‘I’m fine’ but he’s muffled by a scarf, gesturing aggressively at Changbin, half in defensiveness that Changbin would underestimate his abilities to protect himself from the cold and half to dispel Changbin’s worried glances away.

That didn’t work.

“You’re sneezing, which means you’re clearly not fine. Accept it,” Changbin tells him without looking away from his phone, “Did you bring Felix’s textbook?”

Hyunjin squints into the window of Seungmin’s bedroom as they pass his house. He remembers putting Felix’s things in his bag last night but why does it feel like he’s missing some other stuff.

“He said he hit enter without proofreading,” Changbin tells him, “Also it’s textbooks. Plural. You only brought one, right?”

He pulls down his scarf and gives Changbin a look of utter despair and self-loathing.

“That’s fine,” the older boy waves it away, “I broke into your room yesterday to get my charger so I might’ve picked it up. If anything Felix can share with Seungmin.”

“Will he die doing so?” He wonders. Changbin looks up at him.

“Let’s hope not. He hasn’t paid me back for sneaking him into that dance competition thing.”

“I told you to use Woojin’s card but you insisted. How much was it? Why have you not,” Hyunjin steps one foot forward and flourishes his hand, “Let it go?”

Changbin keeps walking, face a blank mask of ‘I don’t know this kid’.

“Two hundred or so,” he tells him over his shoulder, “And I paid for you, too, dumbass. That’s why it’s a lot.”

Hyunjin stutters in his next sentence and his stance, eyes wide at Changbin’s quickened pace. Felix told him Changbin sported the fee for him and not Hyunjin, in what was a very brief flash of jealousy and ‘why does Changbinnie not love me’ moment for Hyunjin. But he had to win the competition out of sheer spite at his dance instructors telling him he can’t learn popping in a week and win something, which he obviously did, and got treated to food later on with Changbin and Chan who came for moral support. Felix came a satisfying third, clinging onto Changbin’s neck and crowing about how he owed the Seo boy his firstborn and the good chunk of his later success in life. Hyunjin didn’t fume, see, he’s just annoyed Changbin let Felix do that to him when he thought he was the sole person who could initiate contact with him

Chan kept laughing whenever he saw Hyunjin’s face. Mean.

“But Felix said you-”

“I told Felix to lie. I know you would’ve refused to dance if it came from me.”

And Hyunjin would’ve refused. Heck, he made an oath somewhere that if Changbin ever spent the money he worked his ass off for him, Hyunjin would not enter a competition with that money. Now. Now he knows and he feels stupid for not knowing because how would Changbin’s bank account be two hundred dollars short for a dance competition that costs $95 to enter?

“Why though?” He jogs behind the receding back.

“Because I can and I want to,” the other boy shrugs, “Besides, your crying face after you win is dumb and ugly. I want to see that.”

Hyunjin splutters about how he’s absolutely beautiful even when he’s bawling his eyes out after the death of Bambi’s mother on screen, but reigns it in. _Calm down. He’s just riling you up, Hwang._

“How do I rep-”

“If you try to pay me back the next thing I steal will be your sizeable trophy collection.”

“That’s sueable. I hope you know I can sue you for that.”

“You say that like I have much regard for morals and the justice system.”

“Just,” he whines, “Tell me next time.”

“Never,” Changbin laughs, “Keep dancing. Don’t worry about me.”

Hyunjin squints at him from the corner of his eyes but reserves a little victory tap dance as Changbin texts Felix back about the textbook situation. He even allows himself a loose arm over Changbin’s shoulder, leaning his chin on the junction where shoulder meets neck.

“You’re getting taller,” the other boy comments. He grins, eyes disappearing.

“Yeah. I am, aren’t I?”

Seungmin descends from the steps inside his house, fresh and cute, and shrieks a little as he sees them, arguing about what to buy Jisung for lunch. He’s vegetarian and the options are limited.

 

(“No, but,” Seungmin tells Jeongin later, “They were just casually hugging. In front of the sanctity of my house.”

“People hug all the time, hyung,” Jeongin pulls a pencil shaving from his hair, cringing, “What’s wrong with Hyunjin hugging Changbin? They do it all the time.”

“Yeah but this time with the besotted look,” Seungmin stresses, “It’s the looks that kill me.”

“Leave them alone,” the boy waves him aside, “They’re cute.”

“I love cute things, but the fact that they’re not dating makes me enraged and therefore visibly angry whenever they exist as a unit near me,” Seungmin stresses, with feelings.

“Sometimes people just don’t like labels,” Jeongin reasons. Seungmin nearly slaps himself.

“Sometimes labels are not the most pressing matters and it’s the ‘well if you happen to date anyone else I would not object although I will cry about it later on in my bed and move schools until I don’t have to see you again’ that’s the problem.”

“Are you planning on interfering?” Jeongin asks, curious. There were talks of it, but no one explicitly carried anything out. Changbin would have their heads for dinner if they do that.

“No. Changbin is scary, but their dynamics are things you just don’t tamper with. I’m leaving them to it. I don’t want to die this early. Just want to rant,” Seungmin gets up at Felix’s appearance at the doorway, “See you later, midget.”

“You rant a lot for someone who’s tap dancing around the school’s heartthrob who is this close to screaming ‘Please date me’ to your face,” Jeongin shakes his head.)

 

“Oh, Minnie, you good to go?” Hyunjin cranes his head up.

“Yep, cool, all good,” Seungmin squeaks and runs to unlock his gate, “Onward, my brothers.”

“Walk ahead. Jisung is telling me some stuff but he thinks I trained in cryptology and advanced internet keyboard smash or something,” Changbin squints and holds out an arm for Hyunjin to put his scarf, phone and earphones over his forearm to shrug a strap of his bag on. Changbin taps aggressively with his thumb just in time to lock his phone away and loops the scarf over Hyunjin’s neck, muttering about how he’ll get a cold later on and will suffer for the good half of the week.

If Seungmin doesn’t know any better, he’d think they’re dating. But they’re not and his need to scream sits dormant until he sees Jisung.

 

 

“Felix,” Hyunjin slams a palm flat on the history textbook page Felix had open but he’s busy talking to Jisung about their biology homework, “You snake.”

“What did I do?” Felix turns to him. Hyunjin makes a choking sound.

“ _What did you do_? You lied to me, asshole, you said-” he’s being shut up as Felix casts him aside and yanks his wrist, pulling his arm for Jisung to see.

“Do you see this bullshit?” He gestures to the watch. “Do you see it?”

“Is that…an expensive watch?” Jisung throws half of himself on the table. “Yo, Hwang, since when can you afford decent watches?”

“I didn’t buy it,” he pulls back his wrist. “Cha-”

“No, don’t tell us,” Felix and Jisung both shush him, “We know, shut up. How and why.”

“We bought it as a pair and the girl gave us a discount so it wasn’t that much. The shop was closing down anyways and I didn’t know what to get him for doing well on the maths test so I was like ‘hey let’s get matching watches because I shattered mine from dancing and you accidentally wore yours in the shower clearly we need new ones’ and that was that.” He tries to explain. The looks were weird. Changbin’s old watch matched with Chan and Jisung, because they were in a rap trio and Hyunjin followed them all the way to Gangwon one time when he was 13 and Changbin was 14 and they were all stuck in a train carriage coming home at 11 and the three boys made a promise to keep writing music together with Hyunjin falling asleep on Changbin’s shoulder.

Chan got them matching watches the next day and they kept wearing those for a good 2 years until Jisung was in chemistry and blew up beakers and his watch and Chan was in taekwondo and left his watch where it fell and got trampled on by the younger kids and Changbin with his freak shower accident that they parted farewell to a childhood memento. Chan apparently cried a good part of the hour away and it was only with Woojin’s promise of a matching hoodie for all of their ragtag crew that he shut up.

“Matching watches,” Felix sighs.

“Matching bracelets,” Jisung singsongs, “Matching rings, matching last names, matching twins.”

“When they die they’ll get matching tombstones,” Felix laments, “When will I ever?”

"Bitch will you listen?” Hyunjin interrupts them. “Why did you tell me Changbin only sported your entrance fee?”

“I said,” Felix sits up, “Changbin sported my fee. Nothing more, nothing less. I just didn’t tell you he sported your fee too. He told me not to.”

“I can’t believe my childhood mate and my best friend are conspiring against me,” he squints, “How dare you.”

“I’m not your best friend,” Felix denies, “Jisung is my best friend. We’re brothers in arms. Changbin is your best friend.”

“That’s disgusting,” Jisung cringes. Hyunjin agrees.

“I know right, what a gross concept.”

Felix and Jisung say nothing, just look at the lunch he has on the table, then back at him.

“Yeah, yeah, now leave me,” Felix turns back to history, “study or scram, I have a test coming up.”

 

Hyunjin leaves in a huff, drawing Woojin’s scarf closer around him.

(“Gross,” Jisung giggles.

“I know,” Felix rolls his eyes, “But cute.”)

 

 

Changbin is trying to study but his sister got excited about something and is screaming downstairs so he opens his window, throws some books in his bag and slips out onto the balcony, feet treading and climbing down the balcony from his apartment to Hyunjin’s nimbly and familiarly. Hyunjin is in the shower, badly singing to Jeongin’s newest trot obsession, and he spreads out his maths homework, scribbling answers, Hyunjin’s light the only thing shining in the dark.

“Boo,” the bathroom door clicks open and Hyunjin emerges, all stupid eye smiles and wet hair. Changbin turns to close his homework, hands moving through his hair.

“Nearly done?” Hyunjin mouths. He shrugs. “I’ll be back, yeah? Stay if you need to.”

Then he leaves, to dry his hair. Changbin tries to control the tremors in his fingers, tries to focus. Stupid shampoo. Stupid soap. Hyunjin with uneven splotches of red and pink on his face. Hyunjin with hair strands that undulate droplets of water and trailing on skin.

“Ah, a bit more, Binnie Binnie,” he tells the stars and himself, “A bit more. Give him time. Give yourself time.”

 

 

Hyunjin is by no means an idiot, as many would disagree, he just doesn’t take calculated risks. He’s travelling with the ball and he could’ve just passed it along, but chooses to keep going even though Jeno was coming straight at him with the air of a man who’s determined to possess the ball. There is a crash and Hyunjin rolls away shocked and a bit confused to register pain.

“It’s just a bruise,” Jisung is by his side and Felix diagnoses him, “Although we should cart you away just to be sure.”

“To where?” He panics. “Where’s Changbin?”

Jisung is half sitting on his leg and he presses his weight on Hyunjin more as the waves of shock travels through him and he’s all sorts of ‘what happened to me’ and ‘I can’t calm down’.

“Breathe,” there is that voice that calms his singing nerves down instantly, “Where does it hurt?”

He bites down the bawl that is threatening to be loose, instead shakily exhales a harsh, “Shin and elbow.”

Changbin squats next to Felix and gently removes all hands on Hyunjin, eyes searching for potential bruises. At Hyunjin’s quivering lip he scoots in closer, touching a very gentle palm on his shin, applying no pressure at all. He swallows back another breath.

“I can take you to the infirmary. Do you want me to carry you?” Changbin’s mouth is by his ear now and he’s shaking his head. He can’t be weak, not when others can see him.

Changbin’s chest is by his shoulder now and he grips the jumper to hoist himself up, legs quivering. Changbin has a hand around his back and one under his knees, rising with him. He matches Hyunjin’s limp as they make their way to a bench, Hyunjin trying to breathe through mouth and nose.

Changbin settles him onto the metal bench and stays close to him, a part of him always touching Hyunjin all the time. He’s trying not to breathe too loudly, unreasonably panicked.

“Okay?” Changbin raps his fist on Hyunjin’s knees. Three one three. Changbin is standing over him. He turns, light too bright. Hides his face in Changbin’s collarbones. Tries to catch his breath.

“Is he-” he hears Felix’s barely-there voice.

“Coping. Go somewhere else and be annoying. I’ll look after him,” Changbin draws an arm around his neck, cradling his head. He threads his fingers into Hyunjin’s hair, silent even in his breathing. His chest moves with minimal effort, like he’s trying hard to not take in too much air. Hyunjin shudders and Changbin draws closer around him, protective of the world outside of his embrace.

“Can you stay with me?” he asks.

“Will it make you feel better?” There is a whisper into his hair. He can’t tell if it was a kiss or not.

Hyunjin decides to be optimistic.

 

“Please,” his voice is small, a child’s. Changbin relaxes around him, perhaps mouthing a ‘yes’ into his hair.

He hasn’t slept in two days. Maybe he should catch a nap.

  


 

When Seo Changbin moved into the neighbourhood, his face was already stuck in a permanent scowl, thick brows and a chin that sticks out too much. Kids at 6 years old didn’t care much about how someone looked like, just how fast they can run and how fun games would be. But Changbin had always been strong and bested everyone on the playground. The jealousy and wariness at 6 years of age weren’t prominent, but they were there. So when some girl told him he looked like an ape, he got up and left, preferring to play by himself. He had books and his sister. He didn’t need anyone else.

Hwang Hyunjin then dropped onto his bench from somewhere above, like a rabid chimpanzee out to terrorise little six-year-olds. Changbin could’ve dropped him. But he didn’t and Hyunjin sort of rolled off him and onto the ground and there were cuts and bruises on both of them.

Hyunjin sprang up, like his head wasn’t cut and there wasn’t blood on his face and stuck out a hand to Changbin, all grimy and dirt-caked, teeth crooked.

“Hyunjin,” he grinned, eyes disappearing. Changbin eyed everything with distaste, mouth puckered in suspicion.

“Changbin,” he whispered back, refusing to touch the rabid monkey. Hyunjin insisted that they shake hands, ‘because that’s what adults do, this is how you be friends with someone’.

“No,” he got up and backed away, “Go away.”

“Be my friend!” Hyunjin chased after him and Changbin took off, not before diverting the kid back to the apartment block where all the kids were playing and the little ones screamed because there was blood on both of them.

“You hurt him!” Kim Saeron accused. “You hurt him!”

Changbin didn’t expect it would arrive so early, knew that there would be all sorts of rumours sooner or later would circulate. Was too resigned as a six-year-old to the cruelty of other children.

“He caught me!” Hyunjin stepped in front of him. “Stop lying, Saeron!” He moved and tried to shield Changbin who was taller than him, face scrunched up fiercely.

Changbin could not believe this. What did he do for this kid? He even refused to shake his hand and he’s out here defending him?

Saeron stuck out her tongue and Hyunjin took a step forward, ready to fight. Changbin pulled back his sleeve, muttering ‘no, don’t’.

“But she said you lied,” Hyunjin’s voice was furious and hurt. “You didn’t lie!”

“She won’t believe it,” he reasoned, “Don’t. You look stupid when you want to cry.”

Hyunjin scrunched up his face even more, in offence or in preparation for a bawling session. Saeron ran around screaming that Hyunjin called her a liar and about four different residents told them to shut up and play somewhere else.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Seo ran out, “Oh goodness me, what happened to you Binnie?”

“He fell on me,” Changbin looked at Hyunjin, “He got hurt too.”

“Come, come,” she shepherded them both inside, “I’ll look at your cuts inside, come. What’s your name, sweetheart?” She looked at Hyunjin and took his hand.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” He beamed. “Nice to meet you!”

Changbin had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of this one for a long time.

 

The next day Hyunjin decided he would become a permanent attachment to Changbin’s side, despite many dirty looks thrown over shoulders and rejections of handholding. Hyunjin was like a parasite latched onto Changbin, the host, and until Changbin would die and become a broken husk, it would not let go.

He was always so stubborn. He refused to believe a kid who fell out of the sky onto a park bench would be so attached to Seo Changbin, the kid who hid in libraries and fought with words as well as fists.

Hyunjin clearly existed to prove him wrong because they might be in different grades, but he sought out Changbin at every given opportunity. Talked to him about the weather. Ranted about the food. Folded bad origami cranes. Gossiped about teachers. Tried to mend his dad’s clothes that one time when Changbin had to stop him from stabbing himself in the leg.

“Why are you always with me?” He asked, genuinely curious. It was 6 months after they met. Hyunjin was still by his side.

“Because you looked like you need a friend,” he shrugged, like the answer was obvious.

The answer was not obvious. Changbin frowned.

“Why you though? And I don’t need friends.”

“Everyone needs friends,” Hyunjin threw both of his hands up and nearly smacked Changbin, “Even you.”

“Fun.”

“I don’t want people to look sad,” Hyunjin pouted as Changbin squinted at him. An alien. This one is surely an alien. Humans aren’t kind. Kids are cruel. “Also you caught me when I fell, so I owed you a favour.”

“Anyone would’ve caught you.”

“Last week Jisung laughed at me when I fell off my bike and only you came.”

“Because the bike was mine and I came to get it back.” Lies. The bike was his sister’s and he came because he just didn’t want it scraped by idiots like Hyunjin and conveniently Hyunjin fell off it so he needed to check if there was blood on it or not.

Hyunjin laughed, bright and clear, like he knew something Changbin didn’t. That’s ridiculous. They’re 5 and 6. What do they know?

“I like you, hyung, that’s why I want to be around you. Like me back, please, you’re really mean to me,” he morphed his face into a puppy look, all droopy eyes and jutted lips.

Changbin was disgusted. That looked gross on Hyunjin’s face. He leant back and rolled to his feet, running away, with Hyunjin screaming and chasing after his back.

 

Seems like Hyunjin is asleep. Changbin lets himself hope and kissed the top of the boy’s hair.

“I’ll be by your side always. Like you have always been.”

 

 

Felix points out one summer day out in the corridor, that Hyunjin doesn’t have any books in his bag.

“Oh that’s because Changbin-hyung took them off me this morning,” he tells the boy.

Felix doesn’t look very impressed.

“They’re your books,” he stresses, with upturned palms, “Why can’t your stupid back carry them? He has books to carry too.”

“He’d been doing this since forever,” he argues, “I can’t stop him.”

“Nobody can stop him,” Felix concedes, “except you, you tall awkward pole. He’ll listen if you gently suggest ‘Hey, my bag is light, I’ll carry my stuff so you don’t have to carry so much’.”

“You’re right,” Hyunjin realises, “I’m a monster to my best friend. Wait, lemme find him. See you, Bok Choy.”

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Felix shouts after him.

 

“Honestly,” Felix slaps a palm over his forehead, “When will he realise? Breadcrumbs, everywhere!”

 

“Yooo,” he skids by Changbin’s class and makes eye contact with Changbin, “Can you come out, two secs?”

Tzuyu, the Taiwanese transfer student, opens one eye and stares at Changbin. Hyunjin watches as Changbin rolls his eyes at her and shoves her shoulder, getting up and sauntering to Hyunjin.

“Yes?” He muses, all shades of amusement as Hyunjin becomes all tongue-tied because why does Changbin have his forehead exposed? Does the slob even style his hair in the morning?

“You’re studying a lot this year,” Hyunjin rushes, “Let me carry my own books. Your bag is heavy. Save your back."

“My bag is fine,” Changbin reassures him, “I don’t mind.”

“But I worry,” Hyunjin whines, stomping his foot, “you’re so old and frail. What if you need spinal surgeries later on in life? Who will look after me?”

Changbin looks half-offended at the dig at his age and half-amused Hyunjin just sprinted halfway across the school to fight him about carrying some extra books in a bag. He smiles ruefully at Hyunjin’s indignant face.

“Your dog, probably. Say hi to her for me. I’m staying behind to study with Minho. He’s panicking over light theories. Said me swearing at him helps with motivation because of spite,” Changbin leans forward and holds Hyunjin’s gaze, something like a smile on his face, “And I won’t stop carrying your books until you promise me you’ll sleep enough.”

“I am!” He stomps again, scrunching his eyes shut.

“Tell me that when I can no longer hear Chris Brown blasting down in room 405,” Changbin nods mockingly and heads back in, “Walk with Seungmin and be nice. Text me only if it’s an emergency.”

“My whole life is an emergency!” He calls out and hears Changbin laugh. An unexpected sound. Changbin hasn’t laughed in ages.

Hyunjin grins, giddy.

 

“Changbin is holding his health in ransom for mine,” he informs Jisung at break. Jisung tilts his head, confused.

“He’s carrying all my heavy ass textbooks everyday on our pilgrimage to school because I keep waking up at 4 in the morning to dance in one of the empty rooms in my floor,” he pouts and whines. Jisung blinks.

“You could just…not dance, you do know that right?” His friend gives him a look.

“But I need to get better.”

“And Changbin doesn’t deserve to get back problems at the tender age of 17, get over yourself,” Jisung leans back, “You have tried to just get him to stop, right?”

“He wouldn’t listen,” he shakes his head, defeated. “I doubt he would.”

“Hyunjin, honestly, if you ask the guy to run a marathon, he’ll ask where, how long and what time do you expect him to come back by,” Jisung tuts, “But for now, try to get enough sleep. Less than 6 hours is unhealthy for you.”

“I know, but-” he puffs out his cheeks, “I don’t know. Don’t want Changbin to get hurt.”

“Then do what is right,” Jisung leans back on his seat, “For you both. It’s unfair for him.”

“I know it is,” he sighs, “He signed up for a life of suffering by being friends with me.”

 

“Well,” Jisung mumbles, “Can’t have love without pain first, buddy. Eat bitter, taste sweet.”

Hyunjin looks up. “Did you say something?”

“You look ugly. Now leave me alone.”

 

 

Hyunjin apparently hit puberty earlier than most. At around the age of 10, girls suddenly went from actively hating him to passively liking him, a transition he dreaded even later on in life. It had something to do with him turning pretty. What rubbish. There were gifts and chocolates and notes stuck inside his books and bag and confessions at the back of the school.

Hyunjin had politely turned down every single one. Didn’t see the point of them. 10-year-old him didn’t need anyone else besides Changbin.

“Isn’t Minhee really pretty?” Changbin asked him once. They were on the grass hill near the pool, summer sun rolling in thick waves through their hair. He shrugged.

“But I like you,” he said. Simple. Truthfully. “I don’t need anybody else.”

“Careful there,” Changbin told him, something like a smile on his face, “How will you get a wife like that?”

“I’ll just not marry and be by your side all the time,” he shrugged and dropped to the ground.

“What, why not marry me?” Changbin hovered over him, stupid chin and big nose. He’s not pretty in the slightest, but that’s okay. Hyunjin closed his eyes.

“You’re too ugly. Get on my level first.”

 

“I too, don’t need anybody else but you,” Changbin whispered to the rolling grass. “But you don’t need to know that.”

 

 

“It’s Valentines soon,” Changbin hums. They’re both lying facedown on a library table,

Hyunjin’s eyes half closing, Changbin fully awake and looking at him. They might’ve still been in middle school or in high school already. Hyunjin’s not too sure. Time pauses and goes with Changbin. “Your table will be flooded.”

“Ew,” he scrunches up his nose, “I don’t like gifts. Now I have to make White Day presents.”

“It rises exponentially per annum,” their breaths are softer now, mingling. “You can just not give them back anything.”

“But a rejection is cruel. I’d rather leave a thank you gift.”

“Isn’t that just as cruel, leading them on? You’re not definitively telling them no. Humans are hopeful things. They’ll hold onto that.”

He closes his eyes, sighing. “Well I guess it will be bittersweet. A thank you gift and a rejection. I’m cruel.”

“Love is cruel,” Changbin hums. “You’re not.”

“Friends aren’t cruel. You’re not cruel. You’re very kind.”

“Am I now?” There’s an amused breath that turned into air. “Others might beg differently.”

“You care, and that’s kind. You never push or pull. You don’t even dare to breathe the same air as me because you think I’ll be deprived of oxygen or something,” he opens one eye and nudges Changbin by the arm, “Stop being kind.”

“I’ll try,” the sort-of smile is back on Changbin’s face again. He looks soft like this, chin and nose still big but blending in with the rest of his face. He has decent eyes, Hyunjin supposes. Give it a few years. He’ll be ethereal in no time.

Hyunjin closes his eyes. What a stupid line of thought.

 

“I can’t be cruel to you,” Changbin toys with the stray ends of Hyunjin’s hair, “Not when you’re so kind.”

 

 

“I like boys,” Changbin told him at 14, after their soccer game with the neighbourhood kids, all scrapes and grass splinters in their hair. Changbin rarely looked fearful of anything, carrying out his life with a nonchalant attitude to his happenings. He told Hyunjin that he’s very selfish, therefore nothing could touch him. Hyunjin remembered how the lines on Changbin’s face were taut, like he’s fearful Hyunjin might hurt him.

“Okay,” he told him. Because this was Changbin. Who he likes and who he doesn’t like wouldn’t make him less of a person. He would still be Changbin.

Hyunjin would still liked him the same.

“It’s okay, hyung. I don’t mind. I don’t care. You’re still my friend,” he took Changbin’s hand and squeezed it. Three one three. Their code for ‘I’m here for you’. “I still like you.”

“You won’t hate me?” There was a tremble in Changbin’s voice. Their voices had been cracking and it’s awkward teenage bodies with overwhelming insecurities and all Hyunjin knew was that if he could protect Changbin from his thoughts he would.

But he didn’t know how.

So he did what he knew best. He drew Changbin in, closer and closer, until he could feel the other boy’s heartbeats. Three one two. _I’ll be by your side, always_. Their heartbeats didn’t separate.

“You’re Changbin. How could I hate you?”

 

 

Changbin hates being reminded that he stopped growing past the age of 15. While Hyunjin continues to shoot like bamboo stalks with every earthly revolution around the sun, he’s still small and bitter. No wonder he suits taekwondo so well. All the aggression is taken out on the mats. Chan got roped into it and they both habitually beat each other up because of stress. Because of crushing thoughts. Because of frustration at things they cannot accomplish.

“Down he goes,” Hyunjin narrates as Chan is slammed on the mat, the soft ‘oof’ lost to the hubbub of the dojo, “Are you okay, hyung?”

“No,” Chan wheezes, “but I don’t think I broke anything.”

Changbin is prodding Chan and scanning him for the odd chance that he might’ve broken the guy, brows furrowed. Hyunjin lounges comfortably on a section of the mat, kicking his foot to the air and pretending he’s a synchronised swimmer at the Olympics.

“You look stupid,” Changbin observes as he hoists Chan up, not even out of breath. Hyunjin blows him a mocking kiss.

Chan chokes a little as he sees this. Changbin knows Chan knows, because Chan is next to him and can see the reddening skin under his uniform.

“Oi,” Chan whispers as he stands, “Careful there, mate. Flirting in broad daylight.”

“I will not hesitate when it comes to hurting you,” Changbin replies calmly. Chan breaks away, cackling as Hyunjin descends onto Changbin like some overexcited vulture at the sight of free meat. Hyunjin hangs over him, arms around his neck and nose in his hair and Chan’s laughs get louder as Changbin doesn’t stiffen, not like before, in fact he’s leaning into the hug, undulating as Hyunjin sways back and forth on his toes.

“Can we get ice cream?” He feels the words rather than hear them. Places one hand over Hyunjin’s clasped ones, resting at his collarbones.

“Let go of me first,” he shrugs, tries to get Hyunjin to leave him. The boy squeezes him even tighter, tight enough that he can feel their skins melt together.

“Never,” Hyunjin singsongs, “I’ll never let go.”

 

Changbin allows himself to hope. He stays there.

 

Maybe being short is alright, when it comes to Hyunjin hugging him from behind.

 

 

Changbin nearly snaps a guitar string when Hyunjin storms in, dropping his bag by the piano and crashes at his feet, kicking his legs in the air.

“What,” the older boy asks, not looking at him, still tuning the guitar.

“I think I bombed my English,” he tells the floor, “That was a solid B.”

“Your mum is happy with Bs,” Changbin reasons, “Didn’t you get tutored by two authentic English speakers, one LA guy and a Malaysian kid?”

“Speaking-wise I’m okay,” Hyunjin turns to look up at Changbin’s neck. Ew, double chin. “But writing-wise I suck.”

“I saw your notes. I don’t think you plunged to a B from your permanent A- spot. Get up before I step on your face,” Changbin lifts his leg as Hyunjin reluctantly sits up, slouching on the floor. “Will you be less sad if I play something for you?”

“How’s composing going?” Hyunjin perks up. “I found sheet music on my table last night. Are you almost done? Can I hear it? Are you rapping?”

“I got the melody done,” Changbin lets his fingernail scrape by all the strings, “But not the rap. You do it.”

“I, a meagre literature student, am asked to-” Changbin raises a brow. Hyunjin shuts up. “I will try my best.”

“Right now I’m not playing it until I have everything ready,” the boy adjusts his guitar, “So sing whatever.”

The thing is, Hyunjin is a terrible singer. There’s a reason why he plays the drums. That’s because he’s tone deaf. But he can’t say no to Changbin. The only logical solution is to sing. He opens his mouth and belts How Far I’ll Go in his best voice.

Changbin seriously plays until the second verse then he stops, crumbled over in laughter.

The thing with Seo Changbin is that when he laughs, he uses his entire body to laugh. Some people laugh with their face, some just smile. Seo Changbin’s laughter travels from the tip of his hair to the ends of his toes, whole body folded in mirth and Hyunjin likes this Changbin, this boy who isn’t tired and looks like he’s 14 and onstage rapping about abolishing school systems and breaking societal norms with his two best mates, with Hyunjin shouting his voice hoarse at the front. This boy who somewhere along the way returned Hyunjin’s vows to walk with him wherever he goes, shopping malls or mountain paths or up a podium to receive stellar scholarships for their efforts, this boy who is an old soul inside young skin, eyes too wise for the conformity he’s been forced in, this is the boy that Hyunjin loves. Has always loved.

They say love is cruel, and maybe it is so. But Changbin had never been cruel to him, not even once. And Hyunjin remembers all the time he didn’t notice, he didn’t know, pushed Changbin too far only to come crying in his arms hours later.

“Seo Changbin,” he kicks the other boy’s foot, “You look ugly when you laugh.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Changbin lifts his head, shaking hair out of his eyes, “You don’t look any better.”

Maybe Hyunjin should have faith. Maybe he should allow himself to be optimistic.

 

 

“Is it just me or,” Minho pokes Changbin with a pencil, “is Hyunjin…closer to you nowadays?”

“Is that so,” he replies, finishing up the problem, “He has moods. Some days he’s distant. Other days he’s clingy. It’s fine.”

“Are you fine,” Minho hums, “With it?”

“Why would I not?” He flips a page. “He does the same for me.”

“Does he?” Minho tilts his head. “I didn’t think you have mood swings.”

From the outside, Seo Changbin is strong. Impenetrable. But he’s a victim to his head, as many are. While he’s seemingly okay externally, he’s crumbling inside.

Nobody but Hyunjin noticed.

Nobody but Hyunjin hounded him about eating properly. Showering. Drinking water. “Come take a walk with me, dark boy supreme, I like the sunset. Play soccer with me. Stop studying all the time, take a rest. Wanna go hiking together? Of course you do, it’s me, you’ll want to accompany me, I’m great company.”

Nobody but Hyunjin was there when he had a crisis at 10 on a nondescript Thursday night. He just texted a simple ‘help’ and turned off his phone and by the 30th count of his watch Hyunjin was unlocking his window and climbing in. No questions. Hyunjin embraced him, skin to skin, Changbin crying and smearing snot and sweat everywhere on Hyunjin’s clothes, but the other said nothing. Just held him closer.

He didn’t let go, even in the morning. Changbin didn’t need the poetry of Keats and Neruda to tell him about love. He knew Hwang Hyunjin and his vice-like grip on Changbin that held him together through wracking sobs and thoughts that wanted to tear him apart, strip flesh from skin.

No wonder all his compositions are all about love nowadays. Jisung notices and gives him a sort of beaming smile mixed with concern.

 

“Does he know?”

 

Changbin doesn’t answer. Even he doesn’t know. Where does the line between friendship and love start and end?

“But I do,” Changbin tells Minho, “Fall apart sometimes. Hyunjin patches me back every time.”

“That is gross and disgusting,” Minho points the pen tip at him, “You are gross and disgusting with each other.”

“Find your own,” he pushes the pen away.

 

He still has hope. It’s the one thing that his brain allowed him to have. Hence, he’s going to have faith.

 

 

“There is an emergency,” Hyunjin’s text reads, except it’s more tHeRe s  aN eM eRGeNcY on his screen, “I’ve been in the library for ages and I got kicked out so now I’m just wondering if you can pick me up.”

“Do we wanna go?” He gets up, wobbles a bit. Been sitting down since 3. It’s now 6.30. The sky is orange and purple. The cleaners have cleaned the good half of the first two floors already.

Minho yawns and closes his books messily, stashing them into his bag. They’re both bone-tired, but they’ve studied a good chunk of the material. They should be fine for the test.

Minho bids him goodbye, ruffling his head, although he gives Changbin this look. It’s the same one that Chan, Jisung, Felix and Seungmin had given him. Concern. Hesitation.

Things they’ve yet to say.

It’s all about Hyunjin. They know he’s oblivious, carefree. It’s almost as bad as being outright cruel to Changbin. But he doesn’t mind. They made a promise long ago. They will be by each other’s sides. Friends or lovers, it wouldn’t make a difference.

“How come I was chased out,” Hyunjin whines, vibrating on his spot, as Changbin strolls from his classroom, “And you weren’t?”

“Maybe because I was studying?” He laughs, carefree. They don’t need anything more or less. This is okay. It will be okay. It had always been okay.

“But I’m prettier,” the other boy tries at a higher pitch. It’s annoying. “I should get pretty people privileges.”

“Maybe today isn’t your lucky day,” Changbin shrugs, nudging Hyunjin’s shoe with his foot, “Now walk, awkward giraffe. I need dinner.”

“You say that like I don’t need food. I’m taller. I take up more space. Hence, more energy required,” Hyunjin huffs and walks ahead of him. Changbin follows. The sunlight hits them both in the face with orange light in purple hues. Hyunjin is washed in orange glow. It’s a good look on him.

“But have you considered the fact that my lunch was small?” he grins, seeing the indignant look on Hyunjin’s face, “And that I need more food?”

“I told you to take mine,” Hyunjin hisses, all purple-tinted and disappointment, “I told you you need more, but no, Hyunjinnie is always wrong.”

“It’s fine. I ate a bit of Felix’s when he came over to ask some questions.” Somehow their hands are entwined. That’s probably Hyunjin’s doing. He has a way of distraction. Subtlety despite his loud mouth.

“Felix’s lunch is disgusting,” Hyunjin wrinkles his nose in distaste, “Ate it once. So dry.”

Changbin doesn’t feel like he should add on to that. At least Hyunjin is assuaged he ate, albeit from a debatable source of consumption.

They walk in silence, but Hyunjin is swinging his hand like a little kid. He allows himself to hope.

 

Hyunjin grips on a bit tighter, hoping courage comes to him. Tries to get a little bit braver.

 

They stop at the apartment block, Changbin having to head to his aunt’s place for dinner. Because she insisted and his sister likes the attention, he is going.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hyunjin lifts their joint hands, looking at him, face a bit unreadable.

“Who else would you see, idiot,” he rolls his eyes, not unkindly. Hyunjin smiles, the look gone.

“I love you,” Hyunjin turns his hand so that his knuckles face up and lowers his mouth for a kiss on his knuckles, hard and bony.

“And I, you,” Changbin replies, unsure of what would be the proper return of sentiments in this case.

“No,” Hyunjin laughs, a bit tearful in his voice, “I’m in love with you. Always have been.”

“Oh,” Changbin echoes, “Right.”

 

Hyunjin waits, half-fearful, half-tearful. He looks like Changbin the day he confessed that he was gay. Hyunjin lives for himself too and this is the rare chance that he will live for another.

For Seo Changbin, no less.

 

“Don’t cry, you look ugly,” he steps in closer, “I…well.”

With all the conviction of an assassin trained to kill, he asserts confidently to Hyunjin, “I have a potbelly and the thought of making out terrifies me, so we won’t be doing any of that soon.”

“You fucking liar,” Hyunjin breaks their clasped hands, choke working its way up his throat, but the fear is gone, “You do martial arts.”

“Potbelly is a healthy belly,” Changbin informs him morosely, moving even closer, “But let me finish, stop squirming.”

Hyunjin stops moving for Changbin to grab his face and pull him down so their foreheads touch.

“Maybe I don’t know what love is and I’m too young to know shit,” he widens his eyes. In Hyunjin’s eyes he sees himself. “But you’ve been kind and you’ve been by my side and there are not enough words in me to tell you how put me together with added pieces every time I fall apart. And I’m not a religious man, Hwang Hyunjin, but I believe in you. And I believe in us, whatever we may choose to be. And yes, I might be a little in love with you too. Always had. Always will.”

Hyunjin’s knees wobble and he comes close to crashing onto Changbin, knocking their foreheads together. Changbin swears and steadies him, all 180 cm of him full of clumsiness and so much kindness.

“You’re making me cry,” Hyunjin sniffles.

 

Changbin grins. He allows himself to be optimistic.

“You will still look ugly, but that’s okay. Come, I’ll hold you.”

 

Hyunjin wished upon a shooting star once that he would be by Changbin’s side forever. Begged the moon be his witness.

“I can’t lose him, please,” he invoked the heaven, “he’s everything to me.”

 

Now he knows what it is like to hold everything with his own two hands and to have everything embrace him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe this went through two editing friends even though chewy gave up towards the end because, I quote "my editing stopped being constructive because it didnt need to be constuctive because it was GOOD" which I'm assuming it meant I did okay
> 
> You are now welcomed to scream about how badly I've done because I know. I did bad. But scream anyways. I love constructive feedback.
> 
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